Les Ombres Rebelles
by danse
Summary: What would it be like to go to a high school where you learn how to kill people? Especially when you have relationship problems, your concept of Tag involves death, and possibly everyone around you is just a guinea pig in a scheme much more sinister....
1. Welcome to WFI

**The White Fang Institute**

_building the world's future since 1989_

August 9, 2005

Dear Student,

Greetings, and welcome to another school year at WFI. If you are a returning student, I hope sincerely that you are prepared mentally and physically to make this one of your best years at WFI yet. For all new students, let me be the first to wish you good luck in your studies, whichever roads they may lead you down. With an increased student body, an unfortunate loss of our Socio-Political Studies professor, and more demand on our administration, we are very lucky indeed this year to welcome Ms. Catherine Bloom, a recent graduate of WFI, to fill an empty post on our staff.

Please find your course information sheet below and note that unless you are a freshman, your schedule will continue as in years past. Timetables will be available for pickup on move-in day, which as you should already know, will be Sunday, September 4th. If you are a freshman, please note that you will be meeting in the main gymnasium at 10:30 AM on Monday, September 5th to sign up for your optional classes.

As always, all students are required to attend the start-of-year assembly, which will be held on September 5th in the auditorium at 9:00 AM sharp. Very important information about happenings this year will be related to you at that time, so please make every effort to attend punctually.

As a final note, I would like to encourage you all to use the time ahead of you to push yourselves and each other to excel at what you do. This is a very important time of your lives, so make your friends and allegiances, enjoy the springtime of your youth, and apply yourself to all that you do.

Until September,

_Headmaster J_

J/gm

**Course**** ------------------------- Professor**** -------------------------- Length**  
Martial Arts (1) ----------------- T. Kushrenada --------------------- Full-year  
Weapons Training (1) ----------- Z. Merquise ------------------------ Full-year  
Debate and Negotiation (1) ----- L. Noin ---------------------------- Full-year  
Strength Training ---------------- Master O --------------------------- Full-year  
Language Studies --------------------------------------------------- Full-year  
--- German -------------------- Professor G  
--- Russian -------------------- Doctor J  
--- French --------------------- L. Une  
--- Spanish -------------------- L. Noin  
--- Mandarin ------------------ Master O  
--- Arabic --------------------- Instructor H  
Explosives Management ------- Professor G ------------------------ Half-year  
Tactical Skills ----------------- L. Une ------------------------------ Half-year  
Applied Sciences ------------- Doktor S ---------------------------- Half-year  
Socio-Political Studies -------- C. Bloom --------------------------- Half-year  
Drivers' Training (2) ----------- Z. Merquise ------------------------ Half-year

(1) Two of these three courses must be completed satisfactorily to graduate from WFI. Special requests **must** be addressed in letter format to the Headmaster for consideration.

(2) Driver's Training is taught for one semester on Saturday and Sunday afternoons at a specified time. Available only to those in their senior year at WFI. Test for international driver's license to follow completion of training.


	2. Chapter One

A/N: Oh god, she started another one. Tack another year onto DB now... Haha, anyways. Welcome to the obligatory schoolfic. Caution! This is NOT your average schoolfic. If you don't know why yet, you will soon. This particular story is as action-heavy as Deadly Beautiful (my ficbeast), but there will also be much, much more romance and it will be very dark and violent. After reading some of this, you will probably start to think of Deadly Beautiful as a bedtime story. Also, there may be parts later on that will not be posted on Fanfiction-dot-Net for reasons you can probably guess at. They won't be essential to the plot though, so don't worry about it. You will also discover just how many swear words I can actually put into dialogue and possibly also narrative. If this offends you, then seriously, just get the fuck out while you still can. If that sentence made you grin, then welcome to the fold.

Couples: Yes, I AM going to tell you what they are this time! 1x2x1, 3x4x3, maybe some 1 and 3 hintage because I'm evil like that, and while Relena won't get the boy, she's sure as hell gonna get the girl. Maybe plural. RelenaxHilde anyways. Lemons ahoy. And there are some other extremely secondary couples that don't even matter that you'll see as you go.

Universal Disclaimer Blanketing this Entire Story and Any Offshoots: Gundam Wing and all of its parts and pieces belong to Sunrise, Sotsu, Bandai, all three, or something. None of it belongs to me, I don't pretend that it does, and I am merely doing this to waste my own time. I'm making no money from this endeavour and wouldn't accept any if it was offered. Thank you and goodnight.

STORYTIME!

* * *

Les Ombres Rebelles – Chapter One

_by danse

* * *

_

Quatre sat across from his new roommate, studying him as he ate scrambled eggs. There was a spot of ketchup near the corner of his mouth, and a fuzzy halo of hair that was working its way loose from his long braid could be seen against the light behind him.

"So," Quatre said, stirring his cereal. "New term."

"Yup," Duo Maxwell responded, taking a mouthful of toast. "Another new roommate to alienate." He grinned up at Quatre demonically, crumbs on his lips.

Quatre frowned back. "You seem awfully confident of that," he complained. "You can't be _that_ bad. I don't see what's so unlikeable about you."

"I'm touched, Quatre," Duo said, putting down his fork to lay a hand on his chest, over his heart. "But it's not really _my _personality that drives them away year after year. It's _his_."

_His?_ "You mean... your shadow?" the blond boy asked slowly, not really believing it even as he said it.

"None other. Yuy's a little... intense." Even as the words were still coming out of his mouth, Duo suddenly tensed, grabbing his fork again and jabbing it up into the air near his temple. When he laid it down again, Quatre could see the small, feathered dart now stuck between the tines; he dropped his spoon in shock.

His bored expression never faltering, Duo picked up the steak knife that was still lying untouched on his food tray, holding the blade between his fingers and glancing quickly to the side before launching the knife. Quatre's head followed its swift motion and he watched as the brown-haired teen three tables over blocked it with a spoon before digging back into his oatmeal. It clattered to the floor, unheeded.

"That was just a return gesture," Duo said, picking up his orange juice and sniffing it carefully before sipping it. "There was no way Heero could have let that through his defenses." He smiled a little, going back to his eggs. "One breakfast down, eight more months to go," Duo mumbled.

Quatre was severely unnerved.

* * *

The two students walked side-by-side down the hall, ducking through crowds of teenagers clogging the way as they went to the auditorium for the yearly welcoming speech. Near the door, they brushed past a very tall boy whose hair covered half of his face, and Duo saw Quatre nod almost imperceptibly at him. He sighed quietly as he reached out to push the auditorium door open. The inside was still nearly empty; they were early. 

"It's not a secret, you know," Duo said as they found seats in the back, on an aisle (at Duo's insistence).

"What?" Quatre gave him a wide-eyed look of innocence that could have won an Oscar.

"Don't play dumb; it won't work with me." Duo flopped down in his seat. "You two don't play Tag. Half the school knows. That's not so important to me," Duo said. He looked right at Quatre. "What _I_ want to know," he said, narrowing his cobalt-coloured eyes at his roommate,"is why you haven't been _caught_ yet."

Quatre blushed crimson and sank low in his seat, his hands crammed in his pockets.

The school that they and some two hundred other teenagers attended was a private prep school. It wasn't the ordinary kind, though. Theirs was a school where each student, upon entry to the institution, was assigned to a partner of the same age, who they would be forced to get to know in a manner unlike anyone else. The partners spent their school years playing a game called 'Tag', and the slang students usually used for their partners (or more accurately, opponents) was 'shadow'. It was a fitting name because it brought to mind images of a silent stalker who you could never quite shake.

The argument for this strange arrangement was that it would train the students to always be aware of their surroundings and never let down their guard, even when they were doing vulnerable activities like napping or taking a shower. It was true, too; traditionally, the students of the White Fang Institute were nigh on impossible to take by surprise, which was one of the many qualities that made White Fang graduates a hot commodity in the job market.

They took interesting jobs, too. White Fang had contributed able bodies to organized crime outfits, secret intelligence organizations, crack military assault squads, and terrorist factions worldwide. Still other graduates went on to become freelance bodyguards, professional assassins, and, occasionally, instructors at the school. It was a natural progression from a place where children were trained to become perfect killers.

The boys sat in silence as the rest of the school streamed into the auditorium around them, settling down in chattering groups. A couple of tame fistfights broke out towards the front, but they all ended unspectacularly as everyone was pushed into seats by everyone else. Duo absently blocked a neck attack by Heero as the stoic-looking boy walked past, mentally marking that as the second shot of the day. He glanced at his watch. It was only five minutes to nine.

By the time the numbers on his watch showed the hour, the room had settled down and a procession had started to walk across the stage at the front. First came five students wearing black armbands (three boys and two girls), known around the school as the Enforcers. They were like hall monitors who were authorized to use lethal force. All five sat in chairs at the far right of the stage.

The teachers followed next. There were ten of them in total, five of whom also made up the administration. Those five brought up the rear, all old men in white uniforms. Duo watched through half-lidded eyes as the eldest-looking among them, a grizzled old man who wore dark glasses and had one prosthetic hand, stepped up to the microphone. He cleared his throat, and a dead silence fell on the room.

"Good morning, everyone, and welcome to a new year. I hope you all got in alright last night and that your new room assignments are acceptable, because they aren't changing."

Quatre wasn't sure how he felt about that.

"For those of you who are new to the White Fang Institute, I am the Headmaster. You may call me J. The people sitting behind me will be your instructors for the coming year." As he introduced them one by one, Duo tuned out, whispering to Quatre instead.

"Look at Kushrenada," he muttered. "Stupid prick looks cocky as always. I'd love to take him down this year."

Quatre smirked. "You and half the school, Maxwell. He's untouchable."

Duo was silent for a moment. "He's totally screwing Une."

"Get the fuck out!" Quatre was scandalized. He grinned at Duo, silently urging a debate on the issue.

"Nonono, I'm serious," Duo insisted, rising to the bait. "Look, they're talking now. Heads are way too close together. I saw them in an empty classroom once."

Quatre screwed up his face. "Ewwwww..."

Duo looked at the front again. "Merquise and Noin are back," he mused. "Wasn't sure about them sticking around."

"Why?"

Duo grinned. "Heero terrorized Merquise so bad last year. He was in the guy's sword-fighting class."

Quatre apparently couldn't have enough reasons to feel intimidated by Duo's shadow.

Duo was sitting straight up all of a sudden. "What?" Quatre asked. "What is it?"

Duo leaned toward Quatre, pointing at the girl sitting next to Noin on the stage. "She's new," he said. "And hot."

Quatre shushed him abruptly, because J was introducing her.

"... Miss Bloom, a recent graduate of White Fang," was all they managed to catch.

"But what does she _teach?_" Duo hissed, having missed that part. "When will I be able to have a class with this heavenly vision?" No answer was forthcoming.

"Guess you'll just have to wait and find out," Quatre said.

"I guess so..." Duo pouted.

J had a few more announcements.

"All freshmen will have their partners assigned tomorrow. The lists will be posted on the wall outside the office. For the benefit of the new students' understanding, and because I'm also sure that some of the older students could use a reminder, I will outline some of the basic rules of Tag.

"First of all, Tag is a no-holds-barred competition between you and your partner. The object is to be stealthy and use your skills to outsmart your partner. As you are in the same year, and presumably learning new things at around the same time, extra study and practice to try to gain an upper hand in the battle is not only encouraged, but expected. There will be no disciplinary repercussions for bodily harm you cause to your partner, _unless you've clearly botched it._

"In the case that an attempt by you on your partner fails, they are not only entitled but expected to retaliate with all available force. This is how discipline is meted out: by your peers.

"There will be no Tag during class time. The teachers will be cracking down this year, and all class disturbances will be dealt with immediately and harshly. This is the only time I will say this."

This wasn't news; because of that rule, Duo tended to use lectures to catch up on the sleep he couldn't get at night.

"The Enforcers exist not to prevent you from playing Tag, but to ensure that all students are participating regularly. The acceptable minimum of legitimate attacks is two per week. Of course there is no upper limit; we don't believe in holding you back. However, if one of the Enforcers discovers that you and your partner are engaging less than twice a week, you will both feel their wrath."

Duo frowned and shot a glance at Quatre, who was blushing again in spite of himself.

People were starting to talk, hushed murmurs rising in volume all over the auditorium. J cleared his throat again to shut everyone up. "There is one more Tag rule that has been added this year, and I would like everyone's _full attention_ while I outline it."

Duo forced himself to listen, knowing that it was probably going to be important sometime.

"From today forward, if you succeed in an attack on your partner and it leads to their death, you will not be assigned a new partner for the rest of your time at WFI. This rule will be in place indefinitely."

A pall fell over the auditorium.

Duo's heart raced. _If I kill Heero... no more shadow? Ever?_ _All the rest of this year and all of the next, I won't be hunted every hour of every day?_ He was having trouble absorbing the idea. He looked over at Quatre.

Quatre had all but collapsed in his chair, pale and sweating.

Duo had to sympathize. Besides the Enforcers always breathing down his and his shadow's necks, they were going to have to legitimately try to kill each other now. That was what J hadn't said, but it was true all the same: anyone who wasn't playing this new game to win was going to find their lives uncomfortable.

It was looking like an interesting school year.

* * *

A/N: Be a friend to the environment. Feed your friendly neighbourhood review whore. 


	3. Chapter Two

Les Ombres Rebelles – Chapter Two

_by danse

* * *

_

Quatre woke up the next morning to find that Duo's bed was already empty, the sheets rumpled everywhere. He looked at his alarm clock absently, and then frowned when he saw that it was only quarter to six. Duo didn't strike him as an early riser.

He turned over to get another hour of shut-eye before his first class, which was Weapons Training 315, but was interrupted ten minutes later by the door to his room banging open and shut. He sat bolt upright, his hand automatically reaching under his pillow for the butterfly knife he kept there, but saw that it was Duo, leaning hard against the door and panting as he fumbled with the lock. He was dressed from head to toe in black, including a toque with his hair tucked up inside.

Quatre just stared. Duo looked up from the door and gave him a weak smile. "I would get dressed, if I were you," he said cheerfully. "And keep that knife out." He gestured at the hand that was still under Quatre's pillow, even though Quatre's body blocked his view of it from the door.

"What the hell are you doing, out of bed and dressed like that at six in the morning?" Quatre asked, wide-eyed and incredulous.

Duo pulled off his toque, appearing not to hear. Quatre just glared at him until he couldn't feign ignorance anymore. He sighed finally, un-strapping a knife from each forearm and pulling another one out of his boot. "Playing Tag," he muttered.

Silence fell on the room while Quatre considered this. "I thought Heero was the one playing Tag," he said finally, suspiciously.

"It takes two people to play Tag, Quatre," Duo said in a slow, I'm-talking-to-an-idiot voice.

The blond boy's determination wasn't going to be swayed by sarcasm, though. He gave Duo a shrewd look. "But you're usually on the defensive, I think," he said. "Why the sudden effort on your part? I always thought you were allergic to work."

Duo stuck out his tongue. "New year, fresh start..." He trailed off, gesturing randomly.

So that was it. "You're trying to win." Quatre swung his legs out from under the sheets and stood up, stretching like a cat before dropping to the floor to do his fifty morning pushups in his boxers.

Duo spluttered for a minute as he changed into regular clothes, apparently at a rare loss for words. As Quatre grabbed his toiletries and marched off to the bathroom for a shower, Duo's voice followed him faintly. "You have no idea what you're talking about..."

On the way to the bathroom, Quatre saw Heero storming up the hallway towards him, and quailed a little before realizing that he was actually heading for the room. He was carrying a six-inch, serrated hunting knife. Shaking his head, Quatre opened the bathroom door. He really hoped that they weren't going to destroy everything in the room with their fighting. He was clearly going to have to lay down a few ground rules about what went on in Duo and Quatre's shared abode in relation to murder and wanton destruction.

_I think I can see what everyone else's problem with living with Duo is, now, _he thought as he turned on the shower.

* * *

When Quatre saw Duo again after lunch in Conversational German 346 (all WFI students were required to master at least one foreign language), he looked quite miffed. Quatre wasn't particularly surprised; Duo and Heero had ended up fighting in the hallway that morning, which was all well and good for Quatre's belongings, but they'd carved some interesting holes in the walls and floor and nearly managed to eviscerate a passerby in the process. The Enforcers had come along to sort it out before someone innocent died on the first day, and to dole out some punishments for property damage. Duo had one hell of a shiner over his left eye, and apparently, Heero had started a brawl with an Enforcer, nearly getting himself killed by Mr. Kushrenada when he intervened to break it up. 

"Well," said Quatre brightly, "at least you're a celebrity now!"

Duo gave him a pained look, completely clueless.

"The whole school's talking about it," he explained. When Duo groaned, Professor G glared at them both and they had to continue their conversation in German.

Duo put his face in his hands, going easy on his eye. "I hate this fucking school," he muttered.

Quatre patted his arm lightly. "Only eight months left," he said, before going back to his drill book.

* * *

The buzz that restarted every year about Heero and Duo's overly intense Tag participation carried on for a few days before something better happened to gossip about.

Just after lunch on the fourth day of class, one of the frosh somehow managed to kill his shadow.

It was a freak accident, really—a total fluke. The victor had left his first Weapons Training class after learning some basic offenses with a knife, and had challenged his shadow in the hallway. The kid refused, and actually disarmed him (clearly he'd had some previous martial arts training), but made the mistake of giving back the knife after teaching his shadow a lesson.

After lunch, the aggressor had seen his shadow in the hallway right outside the auditorium and chucked the knife at him. It had gone right into his neck, piercing his throat. He had suffocated before anyone got to him in time.

It was one of those acts of God, more than anything; the frosh had no training whatsoever with knife throwing, and had done it on a whim, 'because he saw it in a movie'. And it had worked.

That was to go down in history as the first Tag-related death since the new rule came into place. It was going to be far from the last, though.

Quatre and Duo discussed it over dinner that night, after Duo was done checking his food for 'special presents' from Heero. "You know that snot-nosed little punk is an Enforcer now?" Quatre said, taking a bite of roast beef.

Duo looked up from his potatoes. "Seriously?"

Quatre nodded. "I guess that's another new rule. All the lone wolves get to become Enforcers. I guess the current Enforcer crew is gonna be phased out until they're all lone wolves. Must be hard anyway, to keep up that job while still going to class _and_ having to worry about a shadow to boot."

"No shit," Duo said. "I know I could never handle it. Of course, that's not really my fault." He sent a glare at Heero, who was taking a break from Tag for once. Considering how hard they'd been going at it for the last few days, a break was understandable. Duo hadn't had more than two hours of sleep a night all week, and it was bound to continue. "So not only do you get peace and quiet for the rest of your school career, but you also get the most badass power position available to the students. Just for killing one son of a bitch," he mused.

Quatre took a sip of water. "Gonna be a lot of frosh and sophomores going at it now," he said sagely. "The power's too good to turn down to those guys."

Duo frowned. "Gonna be a lot more than five Enforcers, now, too. Things could be a fucking police state here before you know it."

They gave each other a worried look. Then Duo started eating faster, noting that at this rate, Heero was going to be finished his dinner first.

* * *

A/N: We're catching up to what I have already written now, which after the next chapter or so will start to mean you have to wait like normal. :P So sorry. Oh, and the next chapter is excessively long, because it contains the single best action scene I've ever written. :D 


	4. Chapter Three

Les Ombres Rebelles – Chapter Three

_by danse

* * *

_

It was the first Friday afternoon since school had started—the day after the frosh death—and Duo and Quatre were practically shoving their way through the crowded halls. Students were standing in groups all over the place, chatting, discussing skipping their next class and what they were going to do for their first weekend of the term. While Quatre was finished for the day, Duo still had Martial Arts 412 to go to, and it was a class he shared with his shadow, so he was not in a happy mood. Quatre was accompanying him down the hall.

"I really wish I hadn't let them fast-track me through that class," Duo muttered. He was in a more advanced level than Quatre, which was part of the reason their schedules differed in such a small school. Quatre's Martial Arts 312/314 class was in the mornings.

"Well, that's what you get," Quatre said. "Besides, at least it means you're not letting Heero get ahead of you, right? And it's class, so he can't kill you there," he pointed out reasonably.

Duo laughed bitterly. "That's Kushrenada's class," he scoffed. "Somehow, I don't think it would make a difference to him if we killed each other. He'd probably give out bonus marks."

Quatre wisely shut up.

A few somewhat peaceful minutes later, Duo suddenly got shoved from behind. He stumbled forward, recovering his balance before he fell. He whipped around to face his assailant, one hand holding the strap of his backpack steady while the other splayed out in front of him in a modified Tiger position. His eyes radiated fury. "Who the _fuck_ was that just now?" he barked. The hallway went silent.

The other boy, who hadn't run away, glared at him as he answered. "Me, you worthless piece of shit," he spat, his almond-shaped eyes narrowed in disgust.

Duo's eyes locked on the speaker's face, and he straightened up a little. "_Chang_?" he said, sounding incredulous. Then he grinned. "I see that work that Heero did on your face still hasn't healed, Dickless."

Chang Wufei blushed with embarrassment but covered it up by cracking his knuckles. His Enforcer armband was clearly visible around his left arm. "I can make yours look a lot worse," he warned.

Duo completely abandoned his fighting stance, shifting his backpack on his shoulder as he half-turned away, which insultingly implied that Wufei wasn't a threat worth guarding against. "Come on, Q," he said. "This idiot is obviously having trouble with his balance since he got the shit kicked out of him the other day." He turned to walk away, and with a wary glance at Wufei, Quatre made to follow.

Outraged at the slight, Wufei grabbed Quatre's arm before he got out of reach, yanking him close and baring his teeth almost in Quatre's face. "Not so fast, Winner," he said sweetly. "I've been wanting to have a chat with you. You and your shadow. You know that there are some new Tag rules, right? I just want to make sure that you both understand them. Since we've apparently had some... comprehension problems... with the rules in the past." He smiled venomously.

Duo appeared out of nowhere and grabbed Wufei by the collar, nearly lifting him off of his feet as he shoved him, hard, into the opposite wall. Several gathered onlookers had to dodge out of the way to avoid injury as the Enforcer slammed into the painted cinder blocks, wincing visibly. As Duo dragged the stunned Quatre away, they heard Wufei yelling after them while the crowd evaporated. "I've got my eye on you, Winner! And Maxwell, I hope Yuy fucking kills you before Christmas, you asshole! You've got it coming!"

Duo swore quietly as they distanced themselves from the scene. Quatre finally managed to pry Duo's hand off of his wrist and rubbed it absently as he collected his thoughts. "So _he_ was the Enforcer that Heero got in a brawl with the other day, then?"

"None other," Duo said. "Kushrenada's pet bulldog."

Quatre wrinkled his nose. "I didn't think Chang liked Kushrenada any more than anyone else did."

"Less, actually," Duo corrected him. "That doesn't make him any less of a flunky, though."

It made no sense to Quatre, but he left it alone as he waved goodbye to Duo at Dojo 3.

Duo walked inside, bowed at the door, and proceeded to the locker room, noting that no one else had come in yet. Good. He changed quickly into his black gi, tied the belt, chucked his bag into his locker, set a trap involving a can of cheap shaving cream in case it was opened by someone else, and locked it with his heavy-duty combination lock before going back out to the dojo to warm up. As he left the locker room, more people started to stream in, the first of the main mob. He ignored them and started stretching out his legs.

He'd finished his stretching and had completed thirty-four push ups by the time the rest of the class assembled for warm-ups. He saw his friend Hilde approaching and quickly brought his count up to fifty before standing up and grinning a greeting at her.

"Hi, Duo," she responded, looking down briefly to tighten the knot of her uniform belt. "Are you all limbered up yet?" She grinned at her own words.

He shrugged. "Did some stretches. You want a hand?"

"Of course," Hilde answered. Without another word, she kicked her left leg up into the air between them. Duo caught it and slowly raised it over her head, watching for her hand signal to stop when he reached her ear. She closed her eyes and breathed out slowly, placing her fists out in front of her for balance as she felt the gentle pull along her hamstrings.

"You know," Duo said, speaking softly in her ear, "I wonder what would happen if I just tickled behind your knee right here..."

Hilde's eyes snapped open and she glared. "Don't fucking think about it, or I will inflict so much pain upon your person that your mother will feel it," she answered succinctly.

Duo laughed and put her leg down, reaching out for the other one to repeat the stretch.

Hilde was a senior, ready to graduate from WFI this year. Duo had met her in Martial Arts 212 when he was just a freshman and had been skipped up a level. While the older students had intimidated his young, impressionable self somewhat, she'd been kind and quickly became his warm-up buddy, a long-held tradition by now. He didn't train with her, though, because while she was definitely an adequate fighter, he was stronger, more skillful, and more cunning when he fought, so they were generally a bad sparring match.

"Duo," she said suddenly, sounding like she'd just remembered something she had to tell him.

"Yeah?" he asked. They switched positions so that she could help him stretch his legs in turn.

"What happens to you next year in this class?"

He raised his eyebrows. "I guess I need a new warm-up buddy. Never thought about that..."

She frowned. "You're such a jackass! What I meant was, there isn't another combat class after this one; they're probably not going to allow you or Yuy to just stop training in it, and you're not ready to graduate yet otherwise. What's going to happen to you?"

Duo pursed his lips, looking a bit disgusted at the mention of Heero's name in relation to his. "Probably some extra work with Kushrenada or something, I guess," he said. "I dunno, no one tells me anything around here, except for where to go and what to do when I get there."

Hilde smiled softly, and they shortly finished their stretching. By then, people were starting to assemble in the typical lines to await instruction. Kushrenada had appeared just inside the door, looking like a soccer coach as today he was not wearing his gi, but a track suit. It fit with his typical whistle and clipboard better than the gi, though. Everybody finished assembling and bowed to their teacher with varying degrees of respect. Kushrenada pulled his keys out of his pocket and tossed them at a senior named Walker. "Get the sticks," he said.

People started to murmur. They didn't use weapons very often here, as the class focused almost entirely on unarmed combat styles. The only thing Duo could compare the class' general feeling to was gym class in elementary school on one of the days when the teacher got out the parachute. He smirked to himself at the ridiculous comparison as Walker emerged from the equipment room with a bundle of five-foot-long bo staffs under each arm, trotting to the front of the class to bring them to Kushrenada. _What a lackey_, he thought disgustedly. Walker was a pathetic hand-to-hand fighter, too, which only lowered his respect for the guy. Duo never got tired of watching Hilde beat the crap out of him.

Kushrenada raised a hand in the air to attract everyone's attention to him as he spoke. "Teams of two, basic drills on my count, followed by some sparring. Come get a staff one at a time." He blew his whistle and the students jogged up in a procession to grab a weapon before snagging partners and arranging themselves around the dojo. Duo started to make his way towards a cute blonde with a hell of a roundhouse, but a stick suddenly pressing itself against his Adam's apple halted that idea. Resigned, he turned to face the person holding the other end of it.

"Heero," he said emotionlessly, the closest thing to a civil greeting that ever passed between them. Duo knew that when they had a weapons class, Heero had trouble finding a partner, because sometimes he got too rough for the other students. Duo, who had been on the receiving end of Heero's armed and unarmed assaults on his person for the past two years, was used to it by now and would usually tolerate working with him in class for an hour. The theory was that it would tire him out and release his constant aggression for a few hours afterwards, which was always good for Duo. Today wasn't going to be any different.

Well, maybe it was.

They found an open space and bowed to each other, sticks at the ready and their eye contact never breaking. Kushrenada called out the count on several progressively more complex drills, and Duo retreated into his mind as the rhythmic sound of wood clacking against wood filled the room, along with the steady count and occasional blows of the whistle. Heero was hitting hard, as usual, so Duo increased his own force and opened up his stance a little to absorb the hits better. His staff vibrated against his hands with every blow landed on it. The two boys went through the routines like a dance, both of their minds elsewhere as they moved fluidly around each other. It was second nature by now.

Finally a longer blow of the whistle echoed through the room, and everyone lowered their arms, using the break to stretch their tensed muscles out again. "Okay," he heard Kushrenada say, "five minutes of sparring." He blew the whistle again, and instantly, like hunting dogs catching a scent, Duo and Heero dropped their relaxed stances and locked eyes again, tensing up into ready positions. Duo tightened his grip on his bo staff as Heero twirled his to the right, tucking it up under his right arm and bracing his left hand in front of him while he squared up his stance. A slow, predatory grin snaked its way across Heero's face as he and Duo glared at each other.

The tense silence between them hung for five, ten, fifteen seconds, as the sounds of everyone else fighting bled away around them. They looked like human statues busking in a park, frozen and ready to attack as they waited for money to signal them to move. Duo was vaguely aware of the instructor coming up on his left, but he kept his distance and was therefore ignored. On an unknown signal, possibly a heartbeat, both boys launched into action at once. Heero stepped forward and swung his staff in an upwards arc from under his arm. Duo ducked back and brought his staff up in a basic, two-handed block as Heero's left hand caught the other end of his own, holding it high and leaving his stomach apparently unprotected, although Duo knew he would never land a clear shot there fast enough without losing his hand in the process. Duo backed up a little and choked up his grip on the stick, holding both hands closer to the middle and holding it out in front of him in almost the same position as one might a sword at the ready. Heero immediately cut to the left and aimed a backhand shot at Duo's head, and the fight progressed viciously from there.

It wasn't long before the rest of the class noticed the match going on near the centre of the room and their activity slowly tapered off into spectating, ranged around the walls as Heero and Duo used increasingly more space. Treize fingered his whistle, but continued to watch from the sidelines along with everybody else.

Although this encounter moved as fluidly to the eye as when they had been doing drills earlier, no one could be foolish enough to describe it as a dance. The staffs moved with at least twice the speed they had earlier, and you could hear the whoosh of the ends cutting through the air. The clack of wood became louder and harsher, the sound of each blow sending a twitch down the spines of the audience. The combatants' breathing became short and sharp as they worked. It wasn't long before vicious kicks and off-hand blows worked their way into the fight as well. It was smooth, but far from elegant; the choreography was deadly, fast and dirty. One misstep by either participant probably would have been suicide, or leave them wishing it had been.

Heero finally pinned Duo with a rushing assault, and as they slammed onto the mats with their sticks crossed precious inches from Duo's throat, he thought he heard a short crack like wood splintering. Ignoring it, he gritted his teeth and planted a foot in Heero's stomach, rolling his hips up to launch Heero over the back of his head, his arms straight in the air over his face as he heard Heero's body thud into the mat behind him, listening to the rush of air out of Heero's lungs. Gulping in a deep breath, Duo jumped to his feet again and turned to face Heero in a defensive crouch as Heero used his staff to lever himself to his feet, coughing and gasping. As he staggered upright and shoved his staff out in front of him, he sent Duo a death glare that would have made most people wet themselves to be on the receiving end of. Whipping the stick down to his left side like he was whipping blood off of a sword blade, Heero gave a short yell and charged.

If the fight was vicious before, it was hard to say what would be a strong enough adjective to describe this round. Heero's moves were hard to see as he swung and thrust at vulnerable spots, but Duo kept up, feeling a fuzzy sensation in his hands from the constant vibrating of the staff he held. After a particularly good fake on Heero's part, Duo's head was left wide open, and as Heero swung his weapon down like an axe on Duo's exposed scalp, it took nearly the last of Duo's reserves to counter by dropping like a rock to his knees and thrusting his staff up over his head. The weapons crashed into each other with a teeth-rattling jolt, and Duo's eyes went wide with surprise as he heard that cracking sound again, this time too loudly to shrug off. He looked up at his stick and saw with alarm that it was cracked halfway through, light-coloured splinters poking out of the hole in the smooth, dark-lacquered wood.

Duo looked from the damage to Heero, who backed off a couple of steps and raised an eyebrow, giving him a questioning look, as if waiting for him to concede. Duo got to his feet, feeling strain in his back muscles. He held his wrecked bo staff up to examine it again, and his face tightened into a look of grim resolution. Returning Heero's death glare from earlier, he never broke eye contact as he slowly brought his knee up and braced his staff across the front of his shin, pulling back sharply on both ends and listening to the wood crack again as both ends came loose. Now he had two splintered pieces of wood of roughly the same length. He held the one in his left hand out like a shield and advanced on Heero, his eyes still radiating murder. Heero had aimed a strike at the top of his head that was powerful enough to break a hardwood rod nearly two inches thick—Duo had a line and that was crossing it. Now someone had to be taught a lesson.

It was hard to defend against the thrust of the two-handed bo staff with only a short piece of wood in one hand, so Duo resorted to ducking, dodging, and weaving to avoid being pulped as he clenched his right hand around his broken staff and waited for his opening. After feeling a couple of close calls, including one that he knew skimmed across the very tip of his nose, Duo finally got his chance. Stepping forward and swinging one of his pieces of wood in an effort to throw off Heero's rhythm while he was between moves, he succeeded in forcing Heero off balance, and as the other boy flailed with his staff in both hands in front of him to regain it before he fell over, Duo dropped the stick in his left hand, grabbed Heero's staff instead, and gave it a hard yank toward himself. Heero toppled forward, barely stopping himself from falling again. Pressing the side of the stick in his right hand against the other boy's throat, Duo lifted his leg and stomped on the horizontal staff, jerking it out of Heero's hands as Heero found his throat jammed into the stick, choking. The staff clattered to the mats as Duo shoved the stick forward and pushed Heero back, before spinning around to plant his right heel in his opponent's neck. Heero fell to the floor, landing on his side and rolling onto his back as he winced. Flipping the piece of bo staff around in his right hand so that the splintered end pointed down, Duo dropped to one knee and drove the stake towards Heero's exposed throat.

He stopped the sharp point less than a finger's breadth from piercing the skin.

Dimly, through the fuzz of sudden awareness of the world around him, Duo heard the insistent sound of a whistle blowing. Shaking his head to clear it, he stood up slowly, glanced absently at the broken length of wood in his hand, and tossed it onto the mat. He turned around to see Kushrenada advancing on them, not looking happy. He could see Hilde in the background, looking a bit pale as she stared at the scene with everyone else.

"... Your ass off the floor, Yuy," Kushrenada was barking at Heero. Duo looked down at Heero and smirked at the sight of him still flat on his back. _Completely owned_, Duo thought triumphantly, turning his back to walk away. As he went to take his first step, he felt something hit his ankles and suddenly he was sprawled facedown on the mat. Heero's feet walked by his face, and he could hear him chuckling. _...Son of a bitch_, Duo growled to himself, pushing himself to his feet. As Hilde came over to help pick him up and get to the locker room—everything hurt all of a sudden—he noticed that most of the rest of the class was gone. Apparently that was it for today. Of course, their sparring match had probably gone on somewhat longer than five minutes.

"I hope you like black and blue, buddy," Hilde commented as she helped him along, "because that's what you're probably going to look like tomorrow."

Duo groaned.

* * *

Relena Darlian was just walking by Dojo 3 with Dorothy Catalonia in tow, when Heero Yuy walked swiftly out, hoisting his schoolbag onto his shoulder. His hair was damp and looked messier than usual, and he didn't spare an ounce of attention her way as he passed. She nearly swooned and fell into Dorothy. 

"You're a mess," Dorothy said, shaking her head as Relena stared at Heero's retreating back.

Relena scoffed, giving her dirty-blonde hair an arrogant toss as she started moving again. "Honestly, Dorothy, are you _sure_ you're female?" she sighed. "I don't see how any girl with a pulse could resist that... that..."

"...That cold, bitchy, overly aggressive, questionably straight freak of nature who nearly knocked you over on the way by?" Dorothy finished, raising her forked eyebrow.

Relena turned back to face her companion and glared. "What do you mean, 'questionably straight'?"

Dorothy smirked. "Well, if you ask me, and just about anyone else really, he pays an _awfully_ large amount of attention to his shadow, Duo Maxwell. I mean, really, he's had the same roommate for three years and the guy told me once that they've only ever talked about four times. And the only one of those times that Yuy initiated the conversation was to ask if he could borrow Ralph's whetstone to sharpen his _hunting knives_." Dorothy shook her head, making her own platinum hair quiver in waves down her back. "Maxwell is, like, the only person on campus whose existence that kid acknowledges. It's like pulling the girls' pigtails at recess."

Relena didn't stop glaring. "Well, I really _don't_ see how that automatically makes him gay or whatever." She cast a dreamy gaze down the crowded corridor in the direction where he'd disappeared. "I think he's just really dedicated to Tag. Trying to make himself a better person and push himself to the limit. That's _so_ amazing..."

Dorothy gave Relena a calculating look, and then left her behind to continue down the hall to the library. _Lost cause,_ she thought grumpily.

* * *

Relena was still standing in the vicinity of the dojo, wondering where Dorothy had just disappeared to and contemplating following Heero for a chance to talk to him for once, when the door opened directly behind her. She didn't have time to turn around before she was bumped into. "Sorry, Darlian," a familiar female voice said. 

Relena whipped around to face the offending girl. She narrowed her eyes and drew herself up to her full height. "Schbeiker, don't even _start_ with me," she snapped.

Hilde gave her a cool look. "Do you want your ass kicked right here?" she asked. "If you're that eager, I'll be more than happy to oblige. Got a quota to fill, after all." She passed her book bag off to the guy standing just behind her, who Relena noted was Duo Maxwell himself, of all people.

Although she didn't particularly want to start a fight in the hallway right then, which would surely draw an audience, the blonde girl could plainly see that she was going to have no way out of this. Wishing she hadn't worn her most inflexible pair of jeans along with a pair of thick-heeled boots that day, she tossed her own bag against the closest wall and lowered herself into a half-crouch, glaring down her shadow. "Any time you're ready to lose, bitch," she spat.

Hilde assumed her favourite karate stance and then started aiming punches at Relena. Ducking and weaving, she managed to dodge them all, the two small braids in her hair flying around as she moved at top speed. She stepped in close under Hilde's arms and aimed a hard shot at the other girl's exposed stomach, but Hilde blocked it just in time. Relena took a knee to the stomach, but stepped back enough that only half of it connected. Gasping for air, she rolled out of the clinch and got to her feet, only to block a roundhouse at her face. Hilde was really on the offensive today. The next kick, aimed at her knee, she caught, yanking Hilde around her right side and dumping her on the floor. The dark-haired girl retaliated by kicking her feet out from under her. Relena slapped out her arms to absorb her fall onto her back, and both girls leapt into standing positions almost simultaneously.

As they both stood there trying to catch their breath, Relena was incensed to see Hilde suddenly grin widely and chuckle. She could take a lot of things, but being laughed at was not one of them. Aggravated into offense now, she gave a short yell as she advanced on Hilde with a sideways shuffle and aimed a hard chop at her neck. Hilde twisted away, grabbed Relena's extended arm, and used it to throw her to the floor. Just to add insult to injury, Hilde then pinned her arm behind her back and sat on her. Relena heard the small gathered crowd start to giggle as she tried to aim a kick with her heavy heel at any part of her shadow she could reach, unsuccessfully.

"Well, Darlian, your reflexes are getting slow. Maybe you shouldn't have dropped Martial Arts to take Debate and Negotiation, hmmm?" Slapping Relena's ass hard enough to make the other girl wince, she chuckled as she got up to take her bag from Maxwell. "See you next week, same bat-time, same bat-channel," she purred as she walked away. Relena hauled herself to her feet, red-faced, shook out her hair, and went to get her abandoned bag from next to the wall. She was going to go find Dorothy and ask her for more sparring practice, because this would _not _happen again, or her name wasn't Relena Darlian.

* * *

A/N: There it was. That Heero/Duo fight is, in my opinion, the best action scene I've ever written. This is an ideal time to give me some constructive criticism on it. :D PS. I do apologize for the fact that Duo said 'owned' at the end of that scene; I talk like a total gamer nerd and I'm starting to have trouble discerning what is natural English and what is gamer talk these days. And also CATFIGHT YAY. 


	5. Chapter Four

Les Ombres Rebelles – Chapter Four

_by danse

* * *

_

Doctor J was reading a budget report at his desk when his intercom beeped. He pressed the button. "Yes, what is it, Ms. Moneypenny?"

"It's 2:30, sir. Mr. Barton has arrived for his meeting with you."

J's eyes widened in surprise as he glanced at his clock. Sighing, he turned his attention back to the intercom. "Yes, thank you. I'm ready for him." He stood up as his office door opened to admit Dekim Barton, who wore his usual immaculate suit and carried an expensive-looking fedora in his left hand.

Dekim extended his right hand for J to shake. "Nice to see you again, old chap," he said jovially. His cultured accent came from years at Eton, but his shrewd, haggard face could never lend the illusion of warmth, no matter what came out of his mouth. J adjusted his dark glasses on his nose and gestured Dekim to a seat in front of his desk so that they could get this over with.

Sitting in his chair and steepling his fingers in front of him, J frowned at his visitor. "Now, what have you come here to tell me that is so important, Dekim?"

Dekim settled his hat in his lap as he spoke. "I had a meeting with the Board last week, and we reviewed the progress of the school. We've collected fifteen years' worth of data now, and it's been decided that we now have more than enough information to proceed with the next stage of the plan."

J's eyes widened.

"So," Dekim continued, apparently not noticing the other man's expression, "changes will commence this year, and the 2007 graduates will be the first products of Project Meteor on the market." As if that was the end of the matter.

J stood up, ignoring that his chair fell over behind him as he glared at Dekim, enraged. "You _know _my feelings about this, Dekim! I was against it from the start and I _still am_!"

"Yes, I know that's the case," Dekim said quietly, absently stroking a finger along the brim of his hat as he spoke. "However, I think you will easily recall how you still owe us your life and livelihood—you and your four compatriots. Therefore—and please correct me if I'm wrong, J—I own you, and what I say, goes."

Clearly enraged, J opened his mouth to speak, but apparently thought better of it and closed it again. After glaring powerlessly for a moment, caught under Dekim's calm, dominating stare, he regained control of himself and crossed his arms in front of his chest, his face devoid of emotion. "Listen carefully, Dekim, because I am only going to say this once. Your company, and your project, and _all that you stand for_ are absolutely reprehensible and as long as I am at the helm of this school, you _will not_ sell my students as cannon fodder in your silly wars. I would sooner close down the school and burn it to the ground."

Dekim looked bemused. "Well, I'd be happy to replace you if that's how you feel about it, J. After all, it's not actually _your_ school, now is it?"

Like all people, J had a line, and on the other side of it, he got scary. Dekim had just discovered where that line was. When something snapped inside the man in charge of over two hundred teenagers at WFI, he didn't show it, except for his eyes. It was unfortunate for Dekim that J wore such dark glasses.

"Against my wishes and better judgement, Dekim, I went along with your harebrained cash-cow plot fifteen years ago, and it cost me the better part of my dignity—what I had remaining to me at that point—to convince my four colleagues to join us in it. For fifteen years, the five of us buried our collective sense of decency and morals and did as you asked. I acquiesced to you _just this summer_ on your worst idea up until now: that _shock of brilliance--" _the sarcasm dripped from his voice,_ "--_that the best way to eliminate all those rampant cases of post-traumatic stress disorder in the battlefield after making their first kill, was to pit _the students_ against each other, _in the presence of their peers_, in the hopes that you could both _desensitize_ them and market the survivors as some kind of... of _battle-hardened, creme-de-la-creme, successful test subject!" _ J's voice rose to a roar in his rage; his secretary could probably hear him through his thick office door as he yelled at his employer, pointing wildly at him with a shaking finger. "I stood by and allowed _all of this_, but I will tell you now, Barton: _not anymore!_ Make one, single, solitary, _Goddamned__move_ against this school and you will regret it. You will regret that you ever underestimated what The Five Doctors are truly capable of. We _deserve_ our reputation." He pointed to the door. "Now _get out_ of my office!"

Cool as a cucumber, Dekim Barton took the cue, rising gracefully from his chair and walking to the door, while placing his hat on his head. With a hand on the knob, he turned back to face J again, sizing him up with a sneer of contempt as the Doctor stood still, breathing heavily. "This will not be the last time we meet," he said simply, leaving the room without another word.

As soon as the door was firmly shut, J collapsed against the edge of his desk, shaking all over.

* * *

On the second floor, directly above the Headmaster's office, there was a girls' washroom. During the middle of a class hour, it was nearly always empty. This moment was one of the exceptions.

Relena and Hilde had been standing in the middle of the tiled expanse, glaring each other down intensely, when they suddenly realized around the same instant that they could hear voices. Male ones.

Relena broke the staring contest first, casting around for the source of the sound. Boys being in the girls' washroom was a serious offense, and at that moment, she would have really liked to beat up someone who she knew wouldn't be able to track her down later to retaliate. Hilde scowled at her shadow's sudden inattention, but curiosity quickly consumed her too, and they searched around in a rare display of teamwork for the source of the voices.

The two girls proceeded to spend the next ten minutes in the corner near the sinks, crouching over a vent and listening to a conversation (more like an argument, really) playing out in the room below. They could positively identify the voice of their headmaster, but the other man was a stranger. A stranger named Dekim Barton, apparently. When the conversation finally ended with the slamming of a door, they could find no other suitable reaction but to rock back on their heels in the quiet bathroom and gape at each other in shock.

* * *

It was a testament to how small the school was that when people noticed Hilde Schbeiker and Relena Darlian walking through the corridors _side-by-side_, and not only that, but _talking_ to each other in hushed voices, they stopped and stared. Not everyone noticed or cared, of course, but most of the juniors and seniors did. This included Duo Maxwell, who was heading from Applied Science to the afternoon section of Weapons Training class. As his and Hilde's eyes met across the hall, he raised his eyebrows in surprise and mouthed, '_What the fuck?_'

Hilde's eyes widened suddenly, which gave Duo the alarming feeling that she'd just thought of something. He stopped in his tracks and hardly noticed a freshman running straight into him as he focussed on the two girls. Hilde mumbled something to Relena, and Relena's lips formed the word, 'No', though Hilde rushed toward Duo anyway, her hapless shadow trailing behind her with a look of supreme annoyance on her face.

"Duo. Important news. Come. Now." Hilde grabbed his arm and dragged him from the hallway into a conveniently emptying classroom.

"Goddammit, Hilde, can't this wait?" he snarled, as people pushed past them to leave. "I have a fucking _class_. With _Merquise_. I don't want to be late or I'll have to be his dueling partner." He had a private theory that Heero had learned how to hit so hard from Merquise himself.

"Oh, you'll live, you bloody whiner. Merquise isn't all he's cracked up to be, anyway. This can't wait," Hilde hissed.

Duo leaned around her to see the still-silent Relena, who had her arms crossed over her chest and appeared to be doing a slow burn. "Um, hello?" he said. "Darlian, right?"

"...Yeah," she said finally, as if it was being tortured out of her. Her tongue suddenly untied, she glared daggers at Hilde. "Do we _have _to tell your friend? I really would rather this didn't spread all over the school and get us expelled," she groused.

Duo bristled. "Are you calling me a gossip?"

Relena turned her scathing look on him, which surprisingly made him want to whimper a little. She answered him slowly and sweetly, as if she was talking to a stupid child; her words were acid in comparison to her tone. "Noooo, but if we tell _you_, then we'll have to tell some _other_ random kid, and another, and then it'll be some huge rumour, and _then_ the whole school will know. And of course, somehow, it will find its merry way back to us. I don't know about Schbeiker here, but I would rather not be expelled halfway through my senior year. Okay?" She smiled painfully at Duo.

Duo gave her a nonplussed look and flipped her off, but Hilde drew his attention back to herself before the now-angry Relena could take a chunk out of his face. "Fuck, Duo, can you go five minutes without pissing somebody off? This is _important_," she scolded.

The boy glanced at their surroundings; no one else but the three of them was left in the classroom. "Fine, make it quick," he said in a dull voice.

"Okay," she said quickly, launching into her story. "Darlian and I were getting ready to throw down in one of the second-floor girls' bathrooms, when we heard people talking."

"It was men's voices, so it drew our attention," Relena explained, stepping forward to stand beside Hilde as she suddenly started taking part in the conversation.

"Yeah," Hilde agreed, shooting a brief glance at her Tag partner. "So we're looking around the bathroom, trying to figure out where these voices are coming from, and it turns out it's from the vent in the floor."

Duo was already bored; his arms were crossed and the fingers of his left hand were drumming out a complicated beat on his right bicep. Relena caught his gaze and explained the interesting part. "This particular washroom is actually almost directly above the headmaster's office," she said, giving him a meaningful look. Duo raised his eyebrows in interest, and then something dawned on his face.

"You mean, you—" he started, pointing in turn at each of them.

Hilde rushed on with the story. "It was the headmaster himself, talking to some random guy—what was his name?"

"Dekim," Relena prompted.

"Yeah, Dekim. Dekim Barton. Anyway, they weren't having a very happy discussion; they were yelling at each other. I think that's why we could hear them."

Relena jumped in again, getting to the point. "I think the headmaster was doing most of the yelling. Barton was threatening the school and the headmaster—well, mostly the headmaster—saying that he could 'remove him' if he didn't 'follow the plan'. The headmaster got really ticked off right about then."

Duo raised an eyebrow. "'Plan'? What 'plan' is this?"

The girls looked at each other. "We didn't hear a lot about that," Hilde said hesitantly. "Something about your graduating year..."

"...And cannon fodder," Relena finished.

Hilde turned to stare at her. "I don't remember that!"

Relena snorted disdainfully. "Not my fault you weren't paying attention. You were probably still looking over by the stalls when the noise was _clearly_ coming from the vent. Stupid idiot."

Hilde's right hand bunched into a fist. "You fucking..."

Duo's eyes went wide, and he slipped in between them before the fight they'd postponed earlier broke out again. "Okay, ladies, chill out. This is neither the time nor the place. Darlian, did you hear anything else?"

With effort, Relena stopped glaring at Hilde and looked at Duo, her blue eyes going suspiciously sunny again at a speed that disconcerted Duo. "Well... _oh!" _She snapped her fingers as she remembered, her eyes lighting up even more. "The headmaster mentioned Tag!"

Hilde, her anger forgotten in her sudden excitement, pointed at Relena as the memory dawned on her as well. "That's right! It was about the rule change this year! He was blaming Barton for that, saying he hadn't wanted to go along with it, and what else did he say... it was way out of left field..."

Relena's forehead bunched as she thought about it. "He said something about... post-traumatic stress disorder... and battlefields. I also remember him saying 'test subject' and something about economics. Marketing schemes and that. It was really strange."

Duo leaned back against the wall of the classroom, his arms folded across his chest once again as he regarded them both with one eyebrow raised. "Was this the sum total of what you claim to have heard?" he asked.

Hilde caught his drift immediately. "'_Claim to'_? Maxwell, are you calling me a liar?" she snarled.

He didn't rise to the bait. "All I'm saying, Hilde, is that you're telling a wild story with a lot of holes in it. How am I supposed to get worked up about this when not only _I _don't know what the hell is going on, but neither do _you_?" He half-turned to leave, shouldering his bag. "You get bonus credibility points for cooperating with your shadow on this fairy tale, but I'm still disinclined to believe you. Like Darlian said, rumours..." He gestured vaguely.

Hilde grabbed her friend's shoulder and slammed him against the wall so that he couldn't escape. "Fuck you, Duo, we're telling the goddamn truth."

Duo tossed his head lightly, shaking his bangs out of his eyes as he regarded her coolly. "So find something a little more substantial than hearsay you can only barely remember, and maybe I'll listen harder next time. Now if you ladies will excuse me, I have _class_." He left the room without another word, shaking his head and muttering.

Hilde, incensed by his attitude, charged out of the classroom after him. "I hope Merquise works your sorry, braided ass into the ground, you dick!" she called, giving his retreating back the finger. He ignored her as he turned the corner at the end of the hall.

Hilde reentered the room to pick up her book bag from the floor. She looked up to see Relena giving her a haughty look. "What the hell do you want?" she spat.

Relena just shook her head, said, "I told you so," and left.

Hilde slammed her hand against the closest desk, feeling it smart through her palm. "I'm gonna kill her."

* * *

A/N: Yeah, I haven't updated this one for a while. I had a chapter of DB to finish and post first, and besides that, I claim RL taking precedence over my hobbies online. New chapter of this one when it comes to me; in the meantime look for more updates on DB if you read it. Later days. 


	6. Chapter Five

A/N: OMG not dead! Sorry about the retarded wait between updates; that's just how we tend to roll here in danse-land. I was on a roll on my ficbeast etc etc. In the meantime, this fic that you are currently trying to read won a prize! Winner of the AU category in the Media Miner Maximum Challenge Contest for this year. So that's fun. Time for fic.

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing and am making no profit whatsoever off of this.

* * *

Les Ombres Rebelles – Chapter Five

_by danse

* * *

_

Quatre was stretched out on his bed, reading a book by the dying light of the window, when the door suddenly opened and Duo stumbled into their room. He smacked the light switch on his way by and collapsed on his bed as the room illuminated. Quatre stopped squinting, realizing belatedly how dark it had been getting, and looked up at his roommate.

"Whatcha readin'?" Duo mumbled, glancing at the book.

"It's some extra stuff for Tactics class," Quatre said dismissively, closing the book and sitting up to lean against the wall. "You look like you just got off the rack, Duo. What the hell happened?" He paused. "Tag?" he asked hesitantly.

Duo attempted to sit up, groaned loudly, and flopped back down again. "No, actually," he responded lightly. "Today it was Weapons Training. I got matched up with Merquise because I was late. That workout didn't make sitting through Explosives Management a very pleasant experience, that's for sure," he muttered.

Quatre just grinned, getting up and hauling Duo onto his feet. "Don't get too comfortable, it's dinnertime," he said far too cheerfully. As they walked (well, Quatre walked and Duo shuffled a little bit theatrically) down the hall towards the cafeteria, Quatre picked up the thread of conversation once more. "So why were you late anyway?" he asked. "You always make an effort to be early to that class so that Merquise doesn't find a good reason to pick on you."

Duo glanced around them, contemplating the moderately busy hallway. "I'll tell you all about it when we sit down," he said softly.

Quatre raised his eyebrows but he knew Duo well enough to listen to what he said.

* * *

Quatre watched in amusement as Duo shifted immediately, despite his claims of exhaustion, into what Quatre had begun to call the 'Heero Lookout Mode' as he set foot in the teeming cafeteria. One could almost _see_ his muscles tensing and his eyes settling into a searching pattern as he put himself on a hair-trigger waiting for an attack. Duo's roommate could only assume, after nearly two months of being around him all the time, that this state of high alert was more pronounced than it had been in previous years, when his life hadn't honestly been at stake. It was the only valid explanation for why Duo hadn't dropped dead from the strain a long time ago.

Leaving Duo to his paranoia, Quatre eased into the food line and grabbed a tray and utensils for each of them. Not five seconds after he handed Duo his tray, the other boy nearly dropped it on his foot. "Son of a bitch!" he cried. "What the fuck is going on here?"

Quatre stared. "What? What's wrong?" he asked, feeling alarmed.

Duo pointed at a table on the far edge of the dining hall. "_That,_" he growled. "What the hell, man?"

It took a few moments for Quatre to figure out what Duo was pointing at, and then he nodded in sudden understanding. The point of extreme interest was Trowa and Heero sitting at the same table, apparently eating together. He turned his head to look at his roommate, raising an eyebrow. "So why is the world ending? You didn't know they were friends?" he asked.

Duo looked at Quatre in shock. "No! I did not! _Why_?"

Quatre faced the front of the line again, trying to kill this conversation before it got out of hand. "They have classes together," he said simply. "They're both in Tactics with me, actually. And I think they both take Russian, too."

The braided teenager spluttered a bit, realizing that Quatre was ignoring him all of a sudden. "But you don't understand, Quatre! Trowa's _fraternizing with the enemy!_" he hissed.

Quatre stopped, mid-step, halting the advancing food line, and turned around slowly to face his roommate with a scary-looking smile on his face. "Which enemy?" he replied smoothly. "The guy who's trying to kill _you_, or the one who _he's_ supposed to be killing?"

Duo tried a couple of times to respond to that comment, but no sounds would come out of his mouth. They moved through the line and then found an empty table that was closer to Heero and Trowa than Duo would have liked. He hadn't picked it, though.

"So," Quatre said, their conversation up to this point apparently forgotten, "are you going to tell me the sensitive secret of why you were late for your Weapons Training class?" He took a bite of his baked potato without breaking eye contact with Duo.

Duo shifted on his chair until he was in a more comfortable position, looking down and digging into his potato with his fork until the insides were fluffy, steaming, and all over the plate. He glanced around to make sure that no one else was close enough to overhear what he was about to say, and then he proceeded to eat his dinner as he casually related to Quatre everything that Hilde and Relena had told him in the empty classroom earlier that day, as if he was talking about normal gossip and not possibilities of mutiny occurring way over their heads.

"Okay, let me get this straight, see if I got all the facts," Quatre said when Duo was done relating the story. "They supposedly overheard this conversation going on in the _headmaster's office, _and it turns out that apparently there's some kind of scheme going on where the administration's being controlled from above and we're being manipulated and sold and sent off to die, probably so that some rich people can make some more money. Have I got it all?" he asked as he reached for the half-empty juice glass on the side of his tray.

"Pretty much," Duo snorted. "I was late for class and got the working-over of my life just to hear that, too!" he said, spreading his arms indignantly. "I'm pissed at Hilde now."

Quatre sighed. "You should talk to her some more about this. It sounds kind of bad."

Duo's eyes popped. "You saying you _believe_ her?" he exclaimed. "That's, like, the worst story ever! She was clearly just trying to fuck with me, and I mean--shit, she didn't even do a very good job!"

"But with _Relena Darlian?_" Quatre asked. "They hate each other! Why would they be cooperating if Hilde's just 'fucking with you', as you so eloquently put it? That's grounds for taking her seriously, if anything is."

"Which means it's the only part she got right," Duo insisted. "Hilde pays attention to detail; she will go that extra mile when she's playing a trick on someone. Who knows, maybe she paid Darlian or promised her no beatings for a week if she cooperated! That girl is devious!"

"...Or she promised to introduce her to Heero," Quatre muttered snidely.

"What?" Duo leaned forward, his braid swinging over his shoulder and landing on the table. He brushed it off impatiently. "Seriously, what did you just say, man?"

"Nothing. I was talking to myself," Quatre insisted. "Anyway, the point is, if Hilde pays so much attention to details when she plays pranks on people, then why in the world would she tell such a half-assed story? If she puts so much effort into it, why would she set up a trick for you with a story so completely unbelievable with no details that would make it work?"

Duo froze as he was about to interrupt, thinking about that. Finally, he frowned. "So you're saying that it's such a shit job of screwing with me that she must be telling the truth. Huh." He raised his eyebrow, silent for once.

Duo's thoughtful silence was quickly interrupted by the approach of two very familiar young men. Trowa, with Heero Yuy in tow, stopped suddenly on his way past their table, and slid abruptly but gracefully into the chair beside Duo, plunking his tray down in front of him and picking up his fork to start poking at a slice of cake. Heero sat down opposite Trowa, next to Quatre, and started peeling an orange. Duo, his eyes so wide with shock that Quatre could see the whites of them, abruptly started edging back from the table, surreptitiously grabbing the fork off of his plate as he tried to put a healthy amount of distance between himself and Heero. He was stopped after the first two inches by Trowa's restraining hand on his arm.

"Chill out, Maxwell, you're okay," Trowa said softly, catching Duo's gaze and holding it with his own, fiercely calm one. "Heero promised not to bite. I want to talk to Quatre and this is a good time and place for it."

Duo looked at Trowa's face, then at the hand on his arm, then at Heero—who was actually _staring _at him as he peeled his orange and he looked _amused_, that bastard—and then finally at the fork in his hand. Finally, looking back at Trowa, he licked his lips nervously and then slowly put down the fork. He didn't edge his chair back up to the table, though.

"Good thing for you we have a ceasefire, Maxwell," Heero suddenly piped up, making all three of his tablemates look in his direction. "Otherwise you would have been dead before I got to the table. Your guard always goes down at dinnertime."

Duo could probably have counted on one hand the number of times he'd actually heard Heero speak, let alone to him. He licked his lips again and glared fiercely as he willed himself not to go for the fork again. "Yuy, normal people have to eat once in a while. And relax once in a while. I don't know how well that stick up your ass acts as a suppository--" he saw Trowa nearly choke on a mouthful of cake out of the corner of his eye, "--so that you don't need to do these things, but I like to act normal and sane as often as possible." Prudence hissed at him that he should shut up while he still could, but bravado at his momentary safety zone made his next words spill forward. "In fact, Yuy, if I didn't know better, I'd say you're actually stalking me. Must be that Maxwell charm, huh?" He grinned, his attention on Heero, watching as the words hit their mark and Heero shot him a deadly, frightening look. Duo watched Heero's fingers flex a little, and he leaned back in his chair as he stretched his hand out on the table, thinking of that fork again.

"Jesus Christ!" Trowa snapped, redirecting their attention once more. "Can we fucking have five minutes without bloodletting for _once?_ It's getting _old_" Quatre glared at Duo while Trowa glared at Heero, and eventually both teens sat upright in their seats, hands flat on the table at their friends' behest. They continued to glare at each other for a minute, but then Trowa turned slightly toward Duo and Quatre turned slightly toward Heero and they started debating a meeting time for something, apparently talking to the people beside them and ignoring each other although the words meant nothing to anyone but them.

Intrigued, Duo flicked a glance at Heero despite himself. Heero returned it, Duo's curiosity reflecting on his shadow's face. Duo looked away quickly, blinking in confusion. He saw Trowa grin and wink at him—a wink no one else could see—as he and Quatre finally settled on 9:30 p.m. as a meeting time (_but what day? and where?)_, and then after he nodded at Heero and grabbed his tray, both boys were gone.

Quatre and Duo were left to look at each other in silence.

"Got a hot date tonight?" Duo grinned suddenly.

Quatre looked down at the table, but not before Duo saw his cheeks go slightly pink.

* * *

Duo was staring at his German textbook when Quatre suddenly started moving around the room. He flicked a glance at the clock and saw that it was ten after nine. He said nothing and went back to looking at the passage he was supposed to be translating for the next morning. Several minutes later, Quatre stood at the door, his hand on the knob, wearing his runners and a sweater suitable for going outside in the late autumn chill. Duo noted it without a word as his roommate stood there in silence for a few moments.

"You going to talk to Hilde again?" Quatre asked suddenly.

Duo looked up at him, tucking his pen behind his ear. He chewed his lip, wondering if he could sit there in silence long enough to make Quatre late for his little rendezvous. "I'll try and talk to her tomorrow either before or after Martial Arts," he answered eventually.

The blond boy nodded without a word and opened the door. Duo waited until he was nearly through it to call after him. "Oh, and Q?" he said.

Quatre poked his head back in, looking annoyed by the nickname. "Yeah?" he asked, sounding a bit apprehensive.

Duo grinned a shit-eating grin. "Have a nice time on your date. I want you home by midnight," he cooed.

His hyena-like laughter followed Quatre out the door and down the hall.

* * *

True to his word, the next day, during their warm-up time for Martial Arts, Duo broached the topic again with Hilde. As soon as he casually mentioned it, she abruptly dropped his leg, which she'd been holding up above his head by the ankle. Duo winced.

"Oh, suddenly decided you believe me now, have you? What brought this on?" she hissed.

He had the decency to blush. "Well, I talked to Quatre Winner about it, actually, and he--"

"Wait," she interrupted him, holding up a hand as she glared at the floor. "Why the hell did you bring your roommate into this? Did it not occur to you that maybe some _discretion_ would be appropriate here? I mean, who knows if someone's gonna go blabbing it all to the wrong people and get us in shit, or _worse_!" Her words smacked of Relena's concerns when they'd originally told Duo, which was ironic because she'd been completely ignoring what Relena thought at the time. Knowing Hilde, it was probably best not to bring that up.

Duo glared at her. "I happen to think that Quatre is very trustworthy. Besides that, in another month, he'll hold the world record for being my longest-lasting roommate."

Hilde looked back up at him and raised an eyebrow. "Who has the record right now?" she asked.

"My first roommate back when I was a freshman, Han. You remember him? He actually left the school at Christmas that year—said he was sick of the whole place or something. That was also kinda before Heero and I really got into Tag," he explained, "so to me, that makes Quatre special. I would go so far as to say he's my best friend here, as a matter of fact. Plus, he's a smart guy and I needed to get it off my chest—decide if what you were saying had any merit in it. So if _that's_ not acceptable discretion..."

"Okay, then, fine," Hilde said, reaching out for his other leg to stretch it out. They were silent for a minute, and then she said, "So he believed me, huh?" There was a slight emphasis on the 'he', Duo noticed.

"Yeah," he answered reluctantly. "Anyway, he wanted me to talk to you some more about it. If he believes you, then I'm not sure what to think. He had some pretty convincing reasons to believe what you said was true." At her look, he blurted, "I'm not going to repeat them all for you; it's complicated."

Hilde frowned at him but let it drop. "So," she said slowly, drawing out the word, "what was it you wanted to discuss about it, then? Neither one of us has really remembered anything more than what we already told you, you know."

"Well, we were thinking we should probably try and collect more information. You know, do a little more reconnaissance or whatever. Get more of the facts nailed down before we decide what needs to be done about it."

"And who do you propose should be doing this extra reconnaissance? Darlian and me again? Or you this time? They won't let you in the girls' washroom, you know," she informed him with a grin.

Duo stuck out his tongue at her. "I don't know," he said. "Just _somebody_. We need to get our shit together before we start pointing fingers at anyone."

"All right," she said reasonably. "I'll chat with Darlian about this again—somehow—and we'll figure out a battle plan. How's that?"

"Works for me," Duo said, just as Treize blew his whistle for class to properly start. The two teens separated to go line up in front of him.

* * *

As Hilde made her unhurried way to the middle of the dojo to join the rest of the group, she was suddenly stopped by a hand on her arm. She turned in surprise, her fist already clenching at her side to pop whoever it was in the face, and stopped short when she saw Heero's intense gaze glaring her down. Her mouth moved soundlessly, and she risked a glance back over her shoulder to see that Duo was facing the other way, his attention focussed on the beginning of class.

Heero headed off the words she was trying to form, speaking in a hurried whisper. "What were you two talking about?" he said.

Hilde felt a blush creep up her neck. "I... um... what do you mean?" she tried.

"I heard most of it," he snorted. "You know, it's rude not to drop specific details when people are trying to eavesdrop."

It took a few seconds for the realization to settle in that Heero Yuy had just made a joke. She kept up her bewildered look, saying nothing.

"Look," Heero said, glancing up at everyone else as if gauging how much time he had left, "you can tell me or I can find out the hard way, and people might get hurt if we choose the hard way, because I will find out regardless of obstacles."

She could just _tell_ that he was obliquely threatening Duo, although probably Quatre Winner wouldn't be exempt from 'the hard way' either, considering. And Winner didn't deserve that because of her, she thought. "We were discussing something that I overheard the other day. Look, it's complicated. Can we talk about this later?"

His grip on her arm relaxed a bit, and Hilde realized that there was a good chance his hand would leave a mark. She bit back a frown. "You have a class next period?" he asked her.

"I have lunch," she said.

"Good, so do I. We'll discuss it then. I'll see you in the cafeteria," he said, and walked away without another word.

She blinked and then shook her head as if there were cobwebs in it that needed clearing out. Now she had an unwanted lunch date with one of the most disturbed people she'd ever met. And on top of that, she'd already lectured Duo about discretion! This was just perfect.

It was funny though; he'd implied with his 'people might get hurt...' threat (and she was sure he'd meant Duo) that he wouldn't hurt him otherwise. And yet they were Tag partners...

_God help anyone who underestimates Heero Yuy for any reason_, Hilde thought with chagrin.

* * *

A/N: I don't know how long the wait will be for the next one. Hopefully somewhat less than seven months. ;) Subscribe for updates, is what I suggest. Or go check my fandom LJ (link in my profile somewhere) for bits and pieces and evidence that I haven't abandoned it all to go and live as a hermit in Tibet. Later days, folks. 


	7. Chapter Six

A/N: I'm still not dead and neither is this story. I hope this is cause for some happiness.

* * *

Les Ombres Rebelles – Chapter Six

_by danse_

* * *

After Martial Arts class ended, Hilde dawdled in the locker room and managed to be the last person out of the dojo, avoiding both Duo and Heero, neither of whom she particularly wanted to run into. She briefly considered just skipping lunch altogether and using the time to study instead, but she immediately thought better of it; Heero would know where her dorm room was and he would find her there in short order if she didn't show up for lunch. She preferred to meet him on neutral ground, if possible, and then put her energy into hoping that Duo would just not find out. Her chances there were probably slim.

She made it all the way through the lunch line without running into Heero, but she did so many visual sweeps of the room that the girl behind her had to jab her with a tray twice to go forward. As soon as she broke away with her food, though, he materialized at her elbow with a tray of sandwiches and she had to bite back a little scream.

"Shall we?" he said.

"I guess." She smiled tightly as she willed her pulse to slow down. "Where do you want to sit?"

He steered them right to the middle of the room, to an open table in a congested area, and plopped his tray down before looking up at her expectantly. She eased into the plastic chair across from him.

"So," he said, starting both the conversation and his first sandwich without preamble, "what were you and Maxwell discussing earlier?"

Hilde sipped her orange juice, debating how much of the situation to actually reveal. She decided to give him only as much information as would satisfy him, in the hopes that he would either stop caring or decide she was a lunatic and leave her alone. "There's just... some rumours going around, that's all."

He raised an eyebrow and took another bite of his food, apparently game for gossip.

She picked up her fork and put it down again, lowering her voice so that no one would hear her over the noise of the lunchroom. "I overheard something in passing, and I had an issue with it so I mentioned it to Duo," she said.

"And you overheard this something in passing while fighting with your shadow in the second-floor girls' washroom, which is right over the headmaster's office," Heero said. "And Quatre Winner knows about it too and you had a problem with that. Sounds like it was an interesting something."

Hilde felt like a cornered animal. She suddenly thought she understood and sympathized with every single bout of paranoia or annoyance Duo had ever had with this guy. She chewed on her lip as she tried to stare him down, but she had to look away far too quickly for her liking. She started perforating the cheese on her lasagna with the fork. "You are way too fucking astute for your own damn good, Yuy," she muttered.

He heard her and started to laugh. "So I'm occasionally told," he said. "Now, are you going to tell me what's going on here or do I have to resort to threats of violence again?"

_He has a definite way with words, too, _she thought, feeling afraid for herself and her runaway mouth. There was obviously going to be no way of getting around the truth. She straightened in her chair and looked him in the eye as calmly as she could manage. "Alright. The short version is that Darlian and I were in that bathroom and we overheard the headmaster talking to someone in his office and it sounded like we might all be child soldiers."

Heero squinted at her. "No kidding. I don't know if you came here for the stunning music program, Schbeiker..."

He dragged secrets out of her and then rewarded her with _sarcasm_. Hilde dug her nails into the table. "That's not what I meant, Yuy. I mean that we're quite possibly being sold like cattle to go fight wars."

Heero put his sandwich down and gave her the first serious, considering look she'd seen since lunch began. "You heard them say this? The headmaster and this other, nameless guy?"

At that point, she didn't see why she shouldn't just tell him everything. It was kind of nice to be listened to and taken seriously on the topic, anyway. "The other guy has a name. Dekim Barton. Heard it?"

He shook his head.

"And I didn't hear them say all of that, but I can't say that I've been thinking of much else since then, so I've drawn some conclusions of my own."

"I suppose that's permitted," he drawled, "but are you planning to actually find proof that this is the case, or are more wild guesses the idea you're going for here? The crazier the better?"

It was Hilde's turn to arch an eyebrow, and she relished it. "I thought you said you heard most of my conversation with Duo."

He didn't bat an eyelash. "So you're going to convince Relena to help you out some more with this."

Hilde nodded, taking her first bite of cold lasagna. Heero didn't seem quite so terrifying when he wasn't promising you injuries.

"And Duo and Winner are both in on it?"

"If Winner's in, then I guarantee you that Trowa Barton is, too," she quipped.

He smirked. "No arguments there. I'm in, too."

Hilde's thoughts stuttered. "Sorry?"

Heero leaned forward slightly and spoke slowly and clearly. "Count. Me. In." He took a bite of his second sandwich.

_But I just told you that Duo's in on this,_ she wanted to say. "Why?"

"Because I care about my future," he retorted. He inhaled the rest of his sandwich and stood up, grabbing his tray. "I'll be in touch, Hilde," he said, and walked away without another word.

Hilde looked down at her tortured lasagna, felt her stomach flip and then got up to throw it out. Duo was almost certainly going to beat the shit out of her when he found out about this; how could she possibly have an appetite?

* * *

Duo hightailed back to the wing where his room was, not daring to look over his shoulder to see how far behind him Heero was. He was still running and that was plenty of evidence that Heero was too close for comfort. The door was locked when he got there and he had to duck a kick to the head and then block a flurry of torso jabs with one hand while trying to fit his key in the lock with the other. He landed a solid kick in Heero's stomach just as he got the door open and used the brief retreat to slip through and slam and lock the door behind him.

He sagged against it with his eyes shut, panting for air, and felt his head rattle as Heero kicked the heavy door for good measure before presumably stomping off. When Duo finally opened his eyes, it was to see Quatre sprawled in his desk chair, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Incensed, Duo stood up and stalked over to the desk, grabbing Quatre's collar.

"You were in here the whole fucking time?"

"No," Quatre said. "I sneaked in through the window. Of course I was in here."

"Why the fuck didn't you just open the goddamned door, then? Don't even tell me you didn't hear us fighting outside!"

"I did hear you two outside," Quatre said, grabbing Duo's hand and separating it from his collar. "And you thought I would actually open the door to that? I didn't need Heero seeing that as an invitation to come inside and tear shit up. You know how I feel about fighting in here!"

"You're still an asshole," Duo said, backing off for the moment. "Fucking laughing! No one asked you."

"You just looked so relieved to have a locked door between you and him. It was amusing."

Duo hopped onto his bed, making the shoddy springs moan. "Yeah, I know what would be amusing: your face with some teeth missing."

"Temper, temper." Quatre turned his back on Duo and stacked some books up on his desk. "So," he said, turning to face him again, "I assume you want to hide out for a while before risking dinner?"

"You assume fucking correctly," Duo said. He was actually debating the merits of just skipping dinner altogether and hiding in his room the rest of the night.

"Suit yourself," Quatre said as he stood up. "I'm going now; I heard it's taco night and I want to get there before all the cheese is gone. Oh," he said, stopping with his hand on the doorknob. "I nearly forgot. Guess who I saw eating lunch with your shadow today?"

Duo flopped back on his bed and threw an arm over his eyes. "I dunno," he said, casting around for a comeback. "Genghis Khan? Were they discussing battle strategy?"

He could hear Quatre laughing. "Close. It was Hilde."

Duo's eyes shot open and he found himself staring at the skin and hair on his forearm. "Say that one more time, Quatre. I don't think I heard you correctly."

"Heero ate lunch with Hilde," Quatre said.

Duo rocketed to a sitting position. "That traitor," he said, glaring at his bedspread.

"You don't know why they were eating together," Quatre started.

"It doesn't matter," he said. "She has no justification that I will be happy to hear, I can guarantee you that." He could see by his roommate's expression that he wasn't wrong. "Do you know what they were talking about?"

"No, I just saw them talking. Hilde looked kind of anxious."

Duo sputtered. "What the fuck good are you, Winner? You see my archnemesis and my close friend talking to each other and you can't even eavesdrop a little? It's the cafeteria; it's not like it's _hard! _What kind of tactician are you?"

"Great," Quatre said. "I knew I shouldn't have said anything. What was I thinking?" He left the room without another word.

Duo calmed down a little when he heard the lock click behind Quatre, but there was no way he was going to be able to sleep, now. He reached behind him for his desk and grabbed his German textbook.

* * *

Trowa had just about reached the door of the cafeteria when he saw a familiar blond head in the crowd. He nudged past two girls to slip into the slowly forming dinner line behind Quatre and felt a smile tug at his mouth as he bent down to whisper in his ear. "Tag, you're It," he said.

Quatre jumped slightly but recovered to glance up at Trowa out of the corner of his eye. That sly look was one of Trowa's favourites. "You're going to give a guy a heart attack," he said.

"You should clearly be paying more attention to your surroundings, then." Trowa reached past a freshman to grab two bright red trays off of the stack. He handed Quatre one. "You never know when your shadow could be ready to put your lights out."

Quatre smirked as he turned away to face the front of the line. "Well, since it's apparently taco night, I can see your point. Who knows what you're capable of in the name of an extra taco or three?"

Trowa's eyes widened involuntarily as he sniffed the air. Could it be? _Yes! _The delightfully sharp aroma of taco spice. His day was officially made. "Can I cut you in line?" he asked.

Quatre's shoulders shook as he started to laugh. "Because cutting _me_ is going to so greatly improve your chances of getting more," he said.

Trowa snorted. "Use your computer of a brain, Winner. If I cut you, that puts me one closer to the next ten people in front of you who I also have to cut past. At least I like you enough to ask first."

"That's so touching. All right, just for that limitless flattery, you can have one of mine as long as you behave yourself and stay where you are," Quatre said, turning so that Trowa could see his nose in profile. "We don't need any violent frosh starting food fights with precious taco filling and wasting it all, just because you were impatient."

Trowa clenched his tray tightly, unable to restrain his grin anymore. "I would give you a big hug right now, if I could."

He saw the corner of Quatre's mouth lift again. "Well, I appreciate the thought."

Trowa managed to get three tacos from the dinner lady on the merits of his own sweet smile before they even left the line. Quatre stopped to discreetly hand him his fourth but Trowa shook his head. "Never mind that, let's go sit down," he said.

Quatre faltered. "But..."

"Come on," he insisted, leading the way toward a table on the back wall. "Who cares if we eat together? It's not like we keep secrets all that well. Besides, it'll improve my taco night to heights unknown." He grinned.

Quatre followed him with a sigh. "You need to stop giving me those puppy-dog eyes," he mumbled.

Trowa decided to pretend he hadn't heard that. "So," he said as he claimed his 'good behaviour' taco and settled in to eat, "how was your day?"

Quatre pinched some stray cheese off of his plate and dropped it into his mouth. "It was... interesting," he said.

"I'm gonna assume that Duo factors into that pause somehow," he answered around a mouthful of food.

Quatre chuckled and then sighed. "Gee, you'd think that he was the source of most of my headaches or something," he said. "All right, I'll start from the beginning, I guess."

"Oh, please do."

"It started with my seeing Hilde and Heero eating lunch together today..."

"Hilde and Heero?" Trowa interrupted. "I'm sorry, but... what? Man, I thought I knew Heero better than that."

Quatre looked at him shrewdly. "It wasn't a hot date; Hilde looked like she wanted to crawl under the table and hide. But anyway, they were talking pretty heatedly about something."

Trowa quirked an eyebrow, the one he knew was visible through his hair. "You don't know what?"

"_I'm_ not the kind of person who feels the need to eavesdrop on private conversations!" Trowa had obviously just pushed Quatre's buttons. He knew when to shut up. He gestured vaguely to continue, covering his unease by picking a stray piece of hamburger off of his plate.

Quatre looked ruffled, but he went on. "Anyway, they were talking. I went and sat down and ate and got on with my day, but not half an hour ago, Duo came running back to our room, with Heero in pursuit as usual. He was all ready to hide for the evening but I told him on the way out the door about seeing Hilde and Heero."

"...And he went nuts," Trowa finished.

Quatre looked at his plate. "I have absolutely no idea what possessed me to say anything about it to him. I should have known he'd go crazy, especially when he was coming off an adrenaline high like that. But I've said it now, and he's probably going to harass poor Hilde, next chance he gets."

Trowa scratched the tip of his nose to cover up a smile. "Oh, I think Hilde can handle it. She's been friends with him for, what? Three years? And she had to be prepared for someone to have seen her talking to Yuy. Gossip doesn't fly in this school; it teleports."

His comment got the desired smile from Quatre, who had resorted to playing with his food. They ate in relaxed silence for a few minutes before Trowa dared broach the subject again.

"So, what do you think they were discussing, then?"

Quatre broke a piece off of his last taco shell and munched on it, raising an eyebrow deviously. "Well, I was thinking Paris Hilton for a while, but I realized that couldn't be it," he drawled. When Trowa just shook his head, he grinned. "That's my Trowa impression," he said brightly. "Is it getting better?"

"You know, I'd throw this at you if it wasn't a waste," Trowa shot back.

Quatre allowed himself another wild grin before calming down again. "They couldn't have been discussing anything but this whole... drama," he said, gesturing vaguely. "They have no connection to each other otherwise. Except maybe a weak one through Relena, but that's hardly a connection worth acknowledging. No, Heero somehow found out about it either in or around their Martial Arts class while Duo and Hilde were discussing it, like I suggested."

Quatre's talent for seeing possibilities and probabilities never failed to impress. Trowa nodded; he hadn't had any opportunity to think about it, really, but Quatre's explanation made sense. "If Heero heard anything at all tantalizing out of that discussion, he wouldn't have been able to resist his curiosity. Especially considering the participants." He straightened in his chair. "So it's all your fault, in a roundabout way, that Hilde's going to get murdered by Duo," he said with a grin.

Quatre's light complexion went even paler and Trowa immediately cursed himself. "I didn't mean it literally," he said. "It's nobody's fault except Duo's that he likes to overreact. Quatre?" He couldn't help glancing around quickly before trapping Quatre's still hands in his own.

Quatre stirred and jerked his hands back, putting them in his lap. "No, you're right," he said. "It _is_ my fault."

"No, it's _not. _Duo and Hilde just don't know how to keep their important conversations quiet. They're probably lucky if _only_ Heero overheard them. They both know as well as you and me that this is not a place where you can say anything you like, anywhere you like. Now, calm down," he said.

Quatre looked up at him balefully for a long moment and then finally reached for his juice glass again. "Fine," he muttered around the rim, "but Duo and I are going to have a chat about this, too, before he finds Hilde." He drained the rest of the glass in one swallow and then stood up, flashing Trowa a quick, sweet smile as he picked up his tray.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the long wait. Took a while to write, a while to edit. I hope you enjoyed it all the same, though. Take care! 


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